


I Don't Know What's Wrong

by Kestral



Category: Masks: A New Generation (Roleplaying Game), Young Heroes of Halcyon
Genre: Gen, References to childhood trauma, teenage superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26178832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestral/pseuds/Kestral
Summary: A trip to see a doctor brings back hard memories for Fledgling. People he trusts have told him that everything's fine, but he's not so sure about that. Can he stand to stay, or will he run away again?
Kudos: 2





	I Don't Know What's Wrong

Fledgling shuffled about on his perch on the back of a bus seat, his long crow-like talons finding better purchase on the upholstery. He held onto the bar above him to keep balanced. If the shape he was in had wings, he’d be able to flap them each time he needed to compensate for a turn or a brake, but this form had arms and hands, so he used them.

It felt important to him, for some reason, that for this journey he remained in this form. He’d learned the word “humanoid” recently, which fit pretty well. He was like a human teenager with pale freckled skin and acne, with the scraggly beginnings of a beard and a poof of curly brown hair that had two grey wolf ears poking out of it. 

He watched the world go by in blurs and stops through his green cat eyes. Inside, the air conditioner rushed and whirred, the bus rumbled and squeaked, two people in suits had a hushed conversation, someone talked loudly on a phone in a language he didn’t know, and tinny orchestral music came faintly from Spectrum’s headphones.

It was very strange to see how humans could shut out the world. In the seat below him, Spectrum was relaxed. Her wings, folded behind her, cast a faint glow through her hair. She had large headphones on that were decorated to match her pastel purple and white outfit and was looking at her phone with an expression of faint boredom.

The bus slowed as it approached the next stop. In the lane to the left, a car continued past, deep sounds coming from it that caused the windows to rattle and Fledgling’s chest to thump. His ears followed it, keeping an awareness of its position while at the same time the bus doors hissed open and three more people got on. All three of them smelled different and one was humming. All of this and Spectrum didn’t even look up. 

He couldn’t make sense of this obliviousness she and everyone else had for their surroundings. It was in direct contrast to everything that had helped him survive. But no one else seemed to find taking the bus so exhausting, so maybe there was something to it.

As the bus squealed and rumbled into motion again, Spectrum finally looked up from her phone. 

“The next stop is ours.”

The relief that the bus ride would over soon only relaxed him for a moment. Spectrum was taking him to a doctor. A special type of doctor that they didn’t have at the Fort. She told him that there was nothing to worry about, but he didn’t believe her. His memories from before his mom took him in as one of her own were vague, but he did remember that there were many trips to special types of doctors. Again and again they’d get up early and get in the car and ride for hours to go to a place that had more doctors, different doctors. And the doctors would always talk to him and give him little games to play and asked lots of questions, and every trip ended with the doctor saying softly “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

Whenever the doctor said that, the humans that made him always looked down at him, disappointment and frustration clear on their faces. Then there was a long quiet ride back.

He took a deep breath and hoped that things were different now. Hoped that it really was okay to be weird, and that Spectrum wouldn’t be disappointed in him. 

A short eternity passed, then Spectrum slipped her phone into her pursed and pulled her headphones down around her neck. This was a sign that she was getting ready to stand up. Fledgling hopped down from the back of the seat, swinging down from the bar, then stood out of the way while she got up.

He followed her to the front of the bus, where they stopped and waited. Fledgling tried to figure out if the way they weren’t talking to each other was the “awkward silence” type or the “companionable silence” type. He did not come to any conclusions. 

Spectrum thanked the bus driver as they got off the bus, so Fledgling did the same. (Editor’s Note: Real heroes always thank their bus drivers.) Stepping onto the sidewalk the oppressive summer heat fell down on the pair. Fledgling immediately wanted to be a snake, but it didn’t feel appropriate at the time. So instead he hustled after Spectrum, hopping every few steps to keep up with her. Crows did not specialize in walking fast.

They walked down the rest of the block then turned the corner. They passed a line of windows filled with posed mannequins and plinths with various bags.

Spectrum motioned for him to stay close as she led the way through a revolving door, and grabbed onto his arm as he went to keep following its circle.

The air conditioning hit just as hard as the heat. Spectrum sighed with relief, but Fledgling hissed softly. There was another strange thing about humans: how were they so unbothered by sudden temperature changes? He knew that once he got used to this temperature it would be one better suited to his current form than what was going on outside, but those moments of transition always made his skin crawl.

“It’s on the second floor,” Spectrum said, already moving through the lobby. “Have you ridden an escalator before? They’re like stairs, but we have harnessed the power that comes from long-dead trees to make them move. You see, before fungi had--”

Fledgling _had_ opened his mouth to tell her that yes, he had ridden an escalator before, but as usual it was more interesting to just let Spectrum talk, even if he always needed to fact-check what she told him later with a more reliable source. Sundance was usually good for that, if they weren’t busy.

“--and thus decay became an extant form of life.” Spectrum finished her explanation. “Anyway, we’re here.” She pulled open a door and stepped inside.

Fledgling hesitated for a moment. _I am not so small as I once was,_ he told himself. _And I can always just leave._ He ignored how the thought of leaving hurt his heart.

“For 2 o’clock, yes,” Spectrum was saying as he walked in. “My friend has an appointment. You see, he needs--”

A few days before, in the late morning, the common room at the Fort was mostly empty. Fledgling sat on the couch, feet sticking out in front of him, with a book on his lap. Swordfish, a fish-person with mottled black and orange scales, lounged on a chair nearby, idly tossing a ball in the air and catching it. Hydroboy, the 6’10 Hydronian prince, leaned over the back of the couch, looking at the book as well.

He reached out a hand and pointed, somehow keeping the page from getting wet despite being made entirely of water. “Which letter is that?”

Fledgling did his best, pupils dilating and shrinking. “I don’t know.”

“Just give me your best guess.”

Fledgling sighed. He didn’t like the odds of a 1 in 26 chance. “D?”

Hydroboy sighed as well. “No, that’s a J. Don’t you remember? J’s the one shaped like a hook.”

Fledgling nodded. “I remember.”

“Okay,” Hydroboy’s voice had the precise quality of someone beginning to lose their patience. The two of them had been at this all morning and were getting nowhere. “So can you point to another place on the page that has the letter J?”

He tried. He felt his whole face getting hot as Hydroboy waited.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“How can you not know? Almost every word on this page starts with a J!”

Fledgling struggled to keep his voice from wobbling. “They all look the same! I _know_ that J is supposed to be a hook and D is a half-circle!” His voice rose to a shout as he threw the book across the room. “But they all look the same and I don’t know why I can’t do this!” 

Swordfish tossed their ball after the book and sat up. “Hold on, did you say that all the letters look the same?”

Fledgling nodded sullenly. 

“Okay.” Swordfish jumped to their feet. “I’ll be right back. You two just cool your jets and don’t even _try_ reading while I’m gone, okay?”

Without waiting for an answer they ran out of the room.

They waited. There was a crashing sound from elsewhere in the Fort, which could have been unrelated but probably wasn’t. After a minute there the squeak of small wheels coming towards them.

Swordfish re-entered the room, dragging a huge whiteboard.

“Okay, Fledgling,” they panted. “Let me know when you can start telling the letters apart.

They started drawing, making the shapes bigger and bigger and the lines thicker and thicker until Fledgling jumped to his feet in excitement because suddenly he could see the letters correctly.

“Oh!” Hydroboy clapped his hands together as he realized what was happening. “Fledgling needs--”

“--glasses.” Spectrum said confidently. 

Fledgling looked around the room he had entered. It looked more like a store than a waiting room. It lacked the chairs, magazines, and children’s play area. Instead it was brightly lit, with glass cases and many mirrors and pillars that had objects of many different colors hooked onto them. Spectrum spun one of the pillars idly while the person at the counter finished looking at the computer screen. 

“Okay, yes, Fledgling, no last name, appointment with Doctor Mars. She should be ready for you in about ten minutes.”

Ten minutes? That was like forever. He sighed heavily.

“Thank you very much, that’s no problem,” Spectrum said. She fixed Fledgling with a Look until he remembered his manners.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Come on, let’s try on some glasses.” Spectrum noticed his mood and tried her best. “It’s fun.”

He allowed her to lead him over to one of the pillars and put a pair of the display glasses on his face. Initially his heart wasn’t in it, but before long he was distracted by the action of making faces in the mirrors with different colorful objects on his face. The ten minutes flew by.

“Fledgling?”

He turned around to see a woman in a lab coat. She was just a bit shorter than him and latina, with long dark hair pulled back into a bun. Large glasses framed her round face.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Mars. It’s great to meet you.” She gave him a warm smile.

“Nice to meet you,” he mumbled. She looked nice, but he’d never gotten anything nice from someone with a lab coat. 

“My office is back through here,” she motioned to a door and started moving towards it. “Will you be joining us?” she asked Spectrum.

“Yes,” Fledgling answered quickly.

Spectrum shrugged and followed.

Dr. Mars led them through a door and into a hallway. It was dimly lit compared to the bright room outside, with brown carpet and yellow walls.

“You have quite beautiful eyes, Fledgling,” she said as they walked. “Like a cat’s, or a reptile’s.”

“Cat,” said Fledgling.

“Fascinating. I’m afraid the bulk of my knowledge is with human eyes, so you may have to bear with me while we figure things out together, okay? I’ve never had a patient with eyes like yours before.”

“New to Halcyon?” Spectrum asked dryly.

“Not freshly moved, but haven’t been here too long, no.” She smiled. “Both of my kids were starting to show signs of powers, so we moved here. We wanted them to have a chance to grow up with other people like them.”

Fledgling revised his opinion of her slightly. Maybe it was possible she could be trusted. 

“Here we are.” She opened a door. “This is my office.”

 _Show no fear,_ he told himself. _The weak animal is the dead animal._

There were posters up on the walls full of all sorts of shapes. A desk with a computer sat against one wall, and an intimidating chair with some sort of device hanging over it was in one corner.

“Okay, have you ever gotten your eyes tested before?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“I’m going to explain what it is we’re going to do then, and don’t be afraid to ask questions, alright?”

He nodded, and she launched into an explanation of the first test. He partially listened, partially let the words wash over him. 

“You’ve got all that? Great, then let’s get started. Cover one eye and look at this poster. Can you read the first line?”

It had to be either a B or an E. He felt just a little bit hopeful as he guessed “E?”

“Good! And the second line?”

His heart sank. He tried tilting his head up and down. “I don’t know.”

“Do you have any tests without letters?” asked Spectrum. “He can’t read.”

“I know the letters!” He snapped.

Spectrum held up her hands. “Alright, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Dr. Mars. “Telling me that you don’t know is just as important an answer as what the letters are. This isn’t the sort of test you pass or fail. Now let’s try the other eye.”

They did several more tests. It was mind-boggling to Fledgling. He’d never thought he had trouble seeing before entering this room. But now everything was blurry. No matter how much Dr. Mars reassured him that it was okay when he struggled to answer her questions, he felt an ever rising tide of frustration in his chest.

Dr. Mars frowned at her clipboard for just a moment before smiling back at him. “Don’t worry, we’re going to figure this out. Will you go sit on that chair? I’ll be over in a moment.”

He sighed and did his best to get settled in the chair. His legs stuck out like they always did; they just didn’t bend in the same way a human’s would. This chair wasn’t made for someone like him.

Dr. Mars explained what she was doing as she moved the hanging contraption over his face. Then began the long process of the machine clicking and whirring and her asking if one or two was clearer.

He was doing his best, he really was, but the image never came into focus. He could hear confusion creep into Dr. Mars’s voice.

Eventually she got up and moved the contraption away from his face. “This isn’t working. I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong.”

He had told himself that he wasn’t as small as he once was. He’d changed, he was a different person now. But as she said that he realized that wasn’t true. Suddenly he was little and confused and something was wrong.

But Dr. Mars wasn’t finished talking. “I should’ve researched cat eyes as soon as you came in. Would you two be okay with sitting tight while I look some things up?”

Oh. That was different.

“Of course,” said Spectrum. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ for being so patient. Fledgling, did you see the water cooler on the way in? Why don’t you go get some water.”

He nodded, then got up and left the room. Dr. Mars was at her computer, typing. Spectrum was looking at her phone. The door closed behind him.

Now was his chance. He could leave: fly away and never have to feel this way again.

He reached the water cooler and filled up a paper cup with water. It was cold, colder than he’d expected from standing water. He leaned against the wall and took a sip.

It wasn’t fair. It would be easier if things were worse. If people at the Fort weren’t becoming his family and if there weren’t all these incredible moments of joy and wonder interspersed with everything he struggled with, it would be easy to leave. He’d nearly left once before but then Swordfish had scooped him up and made him want to stay all over again. Living in society was just so _complicated!_

He finished the cup and drank another. Then he sank down to the floor and started methodically tearing the cup apart. He felt his emotions slow down as he reduced the cup into smaller and smaller pieces. 

Dr. Mars’s door opened, and she stuck her head out. “Fledgling? Ah! There you are. Are you ready to come back in?”

He nodded.

When he got in she closed the door behind him, then turned back and sighed. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, I should have just looked this up from the start. All of that was frankly unprofessional of me.”

Fledgling noted with some surprise that she was talking to him, not to Spectrum.

“Did you figure out what’s wrong with me?” he asked.

The question caught her off-guard. “Oh honey, nothing’s wrong with you!” She took a deep breath, and pulled herself back into a more professional tone. “In fact, nothing’s wrong with your eyes. Cat eyes just work different human eyes, and as far as I can tell, yours are working exactly as they should be. The thing is, cat eyes can’t focus on small details. That’s why you’ve been having so much trouble. No glasses can correct for that.”

Fledgling took that in slowly as she continued talking.

“You should have no trouble with learning to read braille; I can tell you’re very bright. But you’re probably going to have a hard time getting a driver’s license. I know this is probably a shock and a lot to take in. I’m not sure if you’d qualify for the definition of being legally blind, since you can definitely see and in some situations you can see better than someone with 20/20 vision, but--”

“So I can’t read because of the shape of my eyes?” he interrupted.

She sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

He closed his eyes. The shape he was in now, it was the shape he took when he wanted to be himself. But this wasn’t the shape he was born to. Perhaps he could change just part of it? If he could, there were so many eyes to choose from.

He chose something comfortable. He thought of flying between buildings, looking at the street below for signs of food. He remembered what it felt like to spot a spilled box of french fries next to a storm drain.

He felt his eyes change. He opened them.

“Would these eyes work better?”

Dr. Mars startled. She blinked, and Fledgling noticed for the first time how strangely magnified her eyelashes seemed through her thick glasses.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I didn’t realize you were a shape-shifter.”

Fledgling looked around the room, surprised by how different it seemed now. He pointed at one of the posters, unable to contain his excitement. “I see the letters!”

Dr Mars smiled. “That’s great! Do you mind trying that first test again with _these_ eyes?”

A few minutes later they left the office. Apparently, he didn’t need glasses and also wasn’t blind, though neither of those registered to him as things to be relieved about. He was just happy that at least a few things about this world were less confusing, and no one was upset. Perhaps one person who wore a lab coat was okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! With this piece I am particularly proud of how I feel like I was able to build tension despite the low stakes. I think I managed to continue building tension even after it's revealed to the reader that this is just a visit to an optometrist, at which point the reader has enough information to know that nothing bad is happening. Let me know if I'm right about that analysis!
> 
> Also I seem to be continuing my quest to write for increasingly obscure fandoms. I would hesitate to even call YHH a fandom.


End file.
